


The Homosexual Supporting Cast!

by ScreamingPlant



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, Female Reader, Gay Jokes, LGBTQ Community, LGBTQ Female Character, Mentions female-on-female sexual assault, My First AO3 Post, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, POV Second Person, Slow Build, Slow To Update, basically an OC but we'll call it an x reader, breasts are mentioned alot, i cant tag pls send help, like really loves them, outlet for my gay jokes, reader is written as bisexual, reader loves breasts, shhhhh, tamaki is a french fry, x Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-17 21:15:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14197836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScreamingPlant/pseuds/ScreamingPlant
Summary: There's a gay storm heading for Ouran. A flurry of homosexuality coming in the form of a student there. (Name) (Last Name), cute girl connoisseur and food enthusiast is new to Ouran. She emerges into the school with bang of flamboyance and inappropriate pick up lines. She's quite popular among the girls and it's not long until the club starts to notice they have been getting less and less costumers.They confront her and (Name) prepares for war but an unexpected turn of events occur and she ends up working with them.You know how the saying goes, after all: if you can't beat them, steal their women, establish dominance and demand they give you a job.





	1. Don't Underestimate The Homo

**Author's Note:**

> Before reading:  
> 1/ I have not read or watched Ouran for years yet for some ungodly reason wanted to start a new fanfic on here. So, forgive me if anyone is OOC or I get any facts from the story / timeline wrong  
> 2/ This is my first Ao3 post. I have been a long lurker on Ao3 but only recenly got an account and got more into it. Thus, I have no idea how this site works. Pls send help.  
> 3/ I just don't update consistently.... I'm sorry about that.  
> 4/ This is also on my wattpad account @aliciacorreia #spon  
> Feel free to leave any / all mistakes in the comments! Corrections and critisism is appreciated!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyoya struggles against the powers of homosexuals in an ultimate duel to decide who has right to the host club hoes.

 

 **Warning** : this fic is literally an outlet for my gay jokes and pick up lines. This is the only reason this exists. I made a whole story about a character stealin' girls from the host club for this. No regrets.

Also, to clear any misconceptions, I am a straight female - but, like, have you seen how hot some chicks can be????

No?  
Just me?

**-:-**

YOU sigh at the situation quickly escalating in front of you.

A student, looking to be a second year, wears a wicked Cheshire grin as his hand snakes around the waist of another student. The girl is obviously uncomfortable, a strained smile on her face as she attempts to politely push the boy away.

You, watching the scene unfolding with disbelief at how stupid this male student was (I mean, even a blind racoon could tell that the girl wasn't interested), finally decide to step in and intervene. You approach the two, clicking your tongue and shaking your head.

The boy notices your presence and backs away from the girl slightly. He raises an eyebrow at the way you stare at him with half-lidded and indifferent eyes. "Can I help you, dude?"

 _Dude._ Well, you guess misunderstandings like this were bound to happen, considering your short hair and male uniform. But hey, you heard a rumour that the girls here preferred the male uniform so what's a girl to do except crossdress? And besides, you'd been called worse.

You place your hand on his shoulder. "Actually, you can!" You give him a bright smile. "You can help us all, as a society, evolve!" He seems confused at your words and as does the girl. "By not being an asshole you can help everyone!" You manage to say with your cheeriest voice and largest shit-eating grin.

His eyebrows furrow together in rage and you think he finally understands the situation. "What are you trying to say?!" He yells, cheeks flushing with anger.

"Look, I don't intend to be mean but you leave me little choice," you shrug. You glance at the girl who eyes you wearily and then back to the boy. You lean forward inspecting his face very closely and looking into his eyes. He moves away but you counter by moving closer. You move to his right and slowly whisper in his ear, "I don't think she's interested," you giggle and blow into his ear.

He jumps three feet back, slight blush on his face and he raises a hand to his now-red ears. "What the hell, man?!" He yells. The girl laughs quietly. You merely smile serenely in response. The boy continues, "What are you, a fricken homo?!"

You stop at this, blinking slowly. "Oh darn," you say with obvious feigned sarcasm. You turn to him with a teasing grin. "What gave me away? And just when I thought I had suppressed the flaming homosexual desires within me,"

"W-What the hell?!" The blushing mess (formerly a student) then shoots you a look mixed with disgust and confusion before quickly scrambling away from both you and the girl.

You glance at said girl. She also seems confused ***cough*** _hopefullywithhersexuality_ ***cough***. You flash her grin and asks if she's okay. She nods hesitantly and replies, "Uh, thank you? I mean, I think I should say thank you?"

Oh, she looked adorable when confused.

"Not necessary!" You dismiss her, waving your hand in front of your face. "I could practically hear your silent pleas from help here. I'm surprised no one got here before I did, haha. He didn't give you too hard a time, did he?" You ask, looking at her with concern.

"No, thanks to you!" She smiles at you with gratitude and  _your heart fucken m e l t s._ The rumours were true, the girls at Ouran truly are the cutest! You could see yourself making your own harem here. "What's your name? I rarely meet gentlemen like you at this school!"

Oh. She thought you were a guy, too. Well that's not good. I mean, she's seems happy and you thought she was pretty in to you. What if she actually turns out to be ** _*gasp*_** straight???

Eh, we could probably change that anyway. Or sure as hell try to!

"That's nice and all," you begin, chucking slightly. "But I'm no gentleman."

 _'Not in the bed at least,'_ you add mentally and choose not voice your added comment.

The girl dismisses your comment. "Nonsense! This is no time for modesty,"

"I'm not being modest," you insist. "I'm actually just not a male. As in, I'm female. As in, I have boobs (contrary to popular belief). As in, I have the ability to birth little devil spawn children. As in, I got two of those X chromosomes. As in, I'm unfairly represented in the workplace. As in-," you prepare to go on, purely out of a responsibly within you to commit to this joke but you stop upon hearing the quiet and confused mumbling of the cutie in front of you.

"But that uniform..." She mutters.

You look down at your clothes and feel the fabric of the blue blazer between your fingers. "Looks great on me, right?" You finish for her as she continues to look at you confusedly. "I don't usually cross-dress, I just thought I looked better in this uniform. Not that you don't look absolutely adorable in the girls' uniform," you quickly assure her even though it didn't seem she was about to ask.

"I-I see." She says but you were curious of whether she really did or was just agreeing anyway. You didn't really care either way though. "Well, you do look pretty good in it," she says after some thought.

A grin appears on your face. "Good enough to get your number?" You ask, chuckling.

"W-What?" She seemed flustered but not uncomfortable. Probably the first time she's been hit on by a girl. "I thought you were-"

You finish for her again. "A girl, yes. A girl who is very interested in seeing you again. And don't be fooled," you say, matter of factly as you lean closer to her. "that only means I can make your heart rush like no boy ever has," you flash her one last grin before backing away and waiting for a response.

"O-oh, when you put it like t-that..."

Needless to say, two minutes later you were walking down the halls of Ouran while sending the girl (Hatsuhime, you learned her name was) various text messages on your phone.

It seemed there was nothing to fear when you joined this school - you were as smooth as ever.

-:-

It had taken you approximately one week to find all the cute-girl hotspots in Ouran and when it was best to visit them.

The third best was the cafeteria during lunch time (you found they had seemed to gather to one side of the cafeteria and the boys to the other), the second best was near the fountains before and after school (also a great place to make a lot of "wet" jokes) and the best, oddly enough, seemed to be in an old music room after school every day.

At first, you didn't really understand why everyone keep going to this room (and leaving with rose petals covering them - like what the actual fuck) but it didn't take long for you to ask and a cutie named Aya kindly informed you that it belonged to the Ouran High School Host Club.

You'd heard of the club, the school  _was_  infamousfor it, but didn't think you'd ever encounter them. Overly flirty boys weren't your style and you felt you were too similar to them to ever like them. In fact, the club was more a threat than anything. They stood in the way of you and your precious girls.

Because of this you'd gone into war-mode. What this entailed was intercepting girls on the way of the club and veering them away to hang out with you instead. It also included long-winded speeches with the basic premise of "hoes before bros" and you'd felt pretty accomplished by the end of the week. You could proudly say you had whisked away at least 1/4 of the club's customers.

That being said, it didn't take long for the club to retaliate. It was a Monday and it had felt like an especially long school day. You had only  _just_ gotten through it and was excitedly waiting for your cute-girl-dosage that day. Except there weren't any girls around. The club, it seemed, was closed.

You stare at the pink doors, baffled, and let out a quiet, "Huh."

You shrug, place your hands in your pocket and turn around. "Guess I'll go hunting for some lovin' elsewhere," you mutter, slightly disappointed. As you say this, you feel a hand on your shoulder.

You jump slightly and turn around, expecting to see the cute face of one of your beloved girls. "What's up, baby girl-" you stop upon seeing a different face. The face is male, for starters, and has glasses. His hair is akin to the darkest depths of a never-ending void and his eyes hold no emotion.

You stare at him. "You're not my baby girl," you say.

"I'm not," he agrees, pushing up his glasses. He extends a pale and graceful hand to you. "Kyoya Ootori, Ouran Host Club vice-president."

You had to admit, for some who wasn't one of your baby girls - he was pretty damn attractive. You take him for a date if you had nothing better to do. You'd have a three way with him and a cute girl. And in your books, that meant he mildly had your approval for looks. You didn't really go for the quiet and dangerous type though.

"(Name) (Last Name), cute girl aficionado," you return his gesture, taking his hand and introducing yourself. You pointedly don't comment on his Host Club affiliations but know it's probably why he was here.

Ladies, Gentlemen, those who identify as neither or both,  _it's motherfucking war time._

"So I've heard," Kyoya replies with a polite smile. Fortunately for you, you were fluent in the langue of polite-assholesness and knew that kind smile roughly translates to: ' _alright you little shit lets get down to business (not to defeats the Huns)'_

"So," you clap your hands together, following his initiative to cut to the point. "I doubt you're here for the three-way I'm planning in my head," you begin, noticing how his expression didn't falter once at this line. "So what's the deal here? What's your beef with me, man?"

He reaches into his back pocket for a small black notebook. "My 'beef' with you is simple," he says, flicking through the pages. "The host club's numbers are dropping. We have information to believe this is your doing-"

 _"Hell yeah it is,"_ you add quietly but he ignores this, inevitably.

"And I'd like to ask you to leave the school," he replies with a surprising amount of calmness.

You're quiet for a few moments.

Then, finally, "Are you fucking with me?" You ask, genuinely curious. "Not in the good way, I mean," you quickly clarify. "You gotta be joking, right? I've been at this school for a week, man. That'd be a new record, even for me!"

You quickly learn that Kyoya Ootori does not make jokes. Especially when it comes to losing profits. He holds the notebook in his hand out to you. On the pages are names of schools in the district or state. "You have many options, I, myself think that your flamboyant skirt chasing might be more suited to a school like Lobelia Academy-"

"Lobelia?" You repeat, in surprise. You shake your head frantically, making an 'X' symbol with hands. "Woah. Woah. Woah. Even they are a little  _too_ gay for me."

Kyoya continues, not batting an eye. "They have an excellent theatre program and I think you'll find-"

"Hey," you interrupt, poking him the chest. "I don't like where this is going, you're acting like you're being serious about all this-"

"I am serious. It's the only solution," he replies, as if obvious and pushing his glasses up again.

You think for a moment. "What if," you begin, your mind scrambling for different mutually beneficial outcomes. "I found a way to stay here and you would earn more than you're making now,"

Kyoya is sceptic. You could tell what he was thinking, 'if there was a solution like that I would have thought of it,'

"What if," you say again, looking him straight in the eye. "I joined the host club."

You didn't need to speak Kyoya Ootori's langue to know his expression was one that said,  _"What the actual fuck are you talking about."_

 


	2. "Oh no, Surprise Boner"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Name) persuades Kyoya to let her stay and consider her compromise. Meanwhile, Tamaki struggles to prevent his bitches from being stolen by homosexual american immigrants (aka, you).
> 
> Plus, beautiful dude "Haruhi" catches your eye.

_"What if," you say again, looking him straight in the eye. "I joined the host club,"_

_You didn't need to speak Kyoya Ootori's langue to know his expression was one that said, "What the actual fuck are you talking about."_

"Hear me out, man," you say, noticing the sceptic expression on his face. Kyoya doesn't object to this but doesn't urge you to continue either. He merely stares at you with narrowed black eyes, scrutinising you like a bug on the footpath.

"I can bring profits, right? I'll agree to stop telling girls everyone in the host club is hella gay and that they shouldn't go there anymore, and it'll bring more diversity to the hosts! I can be, like,  _the homo type_  or something."

Kyoya doesn't seem to be buying it. Either you're really bad at persuading people or Kyoya had a stick so far up his rear that he could use it to get a colonoscopy. Probably the latter.

Kyoya lets out a deep sigh and finally replies, almost reluctantly, "Absolutely not."

"What? Why? Come onnnnnnnnn, man."

"Inconceivable. The host club has  _standards_ , you know."

"Standards?  _Really?_ I saw one of your hosts admire themselves in the mirror and then proceed to walk into it yesterday."

Kyoya's expression shifts slightly at this. He crinkles his nose, mutters something similar to "damn Tamaki" under his breath before sighing again. "I don't understand. Why would you even want to join the club, (Name)? You made your vendetta against us fairly obvious."

"Well," you begin with a sigh, pointedly not looking him in the eye. "Your flirting powers are strong, and I acknowledge that," You explain, crossing your arms over your chest and then beginning to stroke your imaginary beard. "We'll only destroy each other at this rate. But if we can team up our power will be multiplied tenfold."

"I understand the importance of an ally over an enemy," You finish with a cool one liner to really get that _'they're so cool oh no surprise boner_ ' effect. It always works on the ladies.

"Plus, there's free food and cute girls - which is pretty freaking sweet, my man," you add as an afterthought.

Another sigh. The black haired man pushes up his glasses and begins with an exasperated tone, "Ignoring the obvious problems in that statement, we still have to take into consideration the demographic and appeal of the host club. We are, at our core fundamentals, entertainers who heighten the customers experience with our attractiveness, and do not seek to look into a male market at this current time," the bespectacled host continues, flawlessly.

"In summary," there's a tentative pause as he looks you up and down. "You may want our customers but they may not want  _you_."

"..."

"You know, if I wasn't a borderline narcissist my self-esteem would be as dead as the  _Vine_  platform right now," you reply after a brief moment of silence. "Look, I guarantee I can make any young lady of yours cream their jeans any day. Give me a chance, won't ya?"

Silence is his reply. You continue despite the lack of answer.

"Truth be told, I'm not all that good at making friends." You decide to be honest with him. "I've made banter and wit such a big part of my persona that it's hard to have any real conversations with people aside from flirting or meme-exchanging. Contrary to my firm belief that you guys are closet-homos trying to steal my women, I heard a lot of great stuff about you. And I think there's a lot more to you than meets the eye and that I could see myself becoming really great friends with all of you."

He stares at you, same scrutinising look as before, but it feels more piercing this time. Kyoya opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off, adding, "I could still romance the fuck out of any of the host club's bitches, though," to undercut any  _real_ character development, inevitably.

He closes his mouth, opens it, then closes it again. This is the first time you've seen him without a ready retort to smash your ego. Which you're thankful for. It would be pretty dickbag-ish for him to undermine you after you were honest with him - and it would of hurt a lot more this time.

There's another sigh. He does this a lot, you noticed. Or maybe it's just around you. "If you want to formally place an application," he starts and you can't help the grin slowly growing on your face (which is probably further irritating him). "You have to leave a resume with me, the vice-president, and have a recommendation from our president, Tamaki Suoh-"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

To compensate for your excited yelling, Kyoya continues even louder, " _And_ stop spreading rumours about us and do keep in mind that we rarely accept anyone."

As he finishes, you (still celebrating) fist pump excitedly into the air, "Hellllllll yeah! I'm gonna get paid for being charming!  _Finally!_ Mum said I could never make a career out of being gay! Now look who's a pathetic excuse for a daughter, Carol!"

Kyoya doesn't comment on the obvious emotional baggage in that statement. "You can find us in the abandoned music room on floor two. Please attempt professionalism when you meet the rest of the club."

"Sure thing, sweet thing," you say with an excited wink and finger gun in his direction.

There's another sigh (big surprise) and the host walks away without another word.

-:-

The following day, the large pink doors of the music room seemed a lot more daunting than you'd anticipated.

You'd only ever seen them through passing glances before this.

You ignore the foreboding feeling settling in your stomach and reach for the door handle. A gush of wind greets you, accompanied by the strong scent of women's perfume and cake along with a flurry of rose petals.

And then you ascend to heaven. Hot-Girl Heaven, at least. Within the club, around various tables are dozens of cute girls with blushing faces and bashful expressions.

Seeing so many gathered in one place and how  _happy_ they all looked seemed to put a lot of things into perspective. It was only now, as you watch the hordes of giggling high schoolers patiently wait to be served, that you realise how truly powerful the host club was. They weren't "competition" because there would be no fight. The victor here was obvious and as much as it went against every cocky fibre in your body, you knew you would never win this battle.

You felt slightly depressed at that thought but didn't dare let yourself show it. You merely remind yourself that the host club was your ally now and raise you head proudly, surveying the land of girls before you.

It felt oddly reminiscent of the scene from  _Lion King_ where Simba and Mufusa look over the Pride Land and you find yourself whispering, "everything the light touches is our kingdom" quietly to yourself. "A king's time as ruler rises and falls like the sun. One day, Simba, the sun will set on my time here, and will rise with you as the new king-!"

You're ready to continue your sad display of  _Lion King_  knowledge when a hand grabs your shoulder and you, not expecting it, scream and jump back in surprise.

You hadn't noticed the person and you quickly turn to face them. It's a tall blonde with purple eyes.

It was at this point that you encountered the most beautiful person you'd ever seen in your life.

Your eyes widen in astonishment, a gasp leaving your lips as your already fast beating heart quickens its pace. Your eyes start on their slender legs, admiring their spindly stature and continue to move up to eventually reach the heartwarming smiling resting on their face.

It was too bad this damn blonde was in the way of your view.

You push the teen aside quickly. You watch as the person politely greets two customers with a nurturing smile and natural grace and poise. " _Who_ is that?" You ask incredulously to the blonde beside you, pointing at the brown-haired beauty.

"That's Haruhi. He's a host here, started a couple months ago,"

"Wow," you say before going back to stare at this 'Haruhi'. "They're beautiful."

The blond next to you chuckles and replies, "Thank you," as if it were his own achievement. You normally would question this, but he opens his mouth again and continues, "Yeah. He's pretty amazing. Cute, hard-working and he's a natural at this," the blonde looks to Haruhi, seeming as mesmerised as you were. A few moments later he turns back to you with a dirty look. "Don't get any weird ideas though - Haruhi is pure and innocent!"

You smirk at this. "All the more reason to provide some education." You straighten your blazer walk way before the blond can stop you.

You reach Haruhi quickly but find them busy with customers. Not wanting to be rude, you decide to wait you turn with some other adorable ladies in the room. Only for a couple minutes at least.

-:-

Kyoya stands in the back of the host club, watching the scene unfold with growing amusement. He had recognised you almost immediately when he entered the host club and it was no surprise to find you sitting on a couch, hands wrapped around two customers.

That wasn't the amusing part although.

Kyoya happen to recognise the customers you were with. They were Tamaki's and were fiercely loyal to him - Tamaki also happened to be very possessive with his customers when it came to it. If any of the other host walked up to a girl who had dedicated herself to Tamaki, he'd be putting them in their place in no time, reminding them of who exactly it was who was the most popular, who was "the King".

Which Kyoya always found odd, considering his typically selfless personality.

Most of the time the "jealously" spiel worked and the girls would come running back into his arms. When it didn't, though, Tamaki's personality would take a 180 and he'd sob in the corner for the rest of the day.

This time, it made it all the more better that  _a stranger_ had walked in and taken his customers. There'd be a showdown soon and Kyoya looked forward to it. A little excitement in the club from time to time wasn't all that bad, after all.

It seemed he wasn't the only one to notice this, either.

"This can't end well," comments Haruhi, sighing, as she walks up next to the bespectacled host. The twins trail after her.

Kyoya's mouth tugs upwards slightly but he tries not to make it obvious. "Well," he begins with a sigh. "We know how to deal with situations like these. Hikaru, Kaoru, if you will."

The twins give a mock sulate and reply simultaneously, "Right! We'll get the popcorn, boss!"

"I don't think that was Kyoya-senpai meant-"

Kyoya cuts Haruhi off, adding "-No butter on mine, please."

-:-

Fifteen minutes later you were still with the other girls but we're making pretty good progress. Currently, you were sandwiched between two lovely young girls on the couch and were  _loving it._

The girl on your right giggles at your suggestion, replying," Oh~ I'm flattered, really. But I'm afraid I don't go that way." Her friend, the one on the left, nods shyly with a fierce blush on her face.

You're not hindered by this and grin at them. "Oh?" You begin looking back and forth at the two. You chuckle. "I'm told that I'm very persuasive so we will have to see about that,"

Your flirting is interrupted by an indignant screech from behind you, "No, we certainly will not!" You turn your head to see the same tall blonde from before, flailing his arms at you. "Now, stop harassing my princesses!"

He finishes his little outburst, back heaving as he looks at you for an answer.

You reply with a blank stare and after some silence answer, "Nah."

The girls giggle quietly and a passing comment of, "Wow, Tamaki-senpai seems really worked up this time, huh? And he called us his princesses too!" can be heard.

So this was the great King of the Host Club, Tamaki Suoh? The one gushing over that Haruhi character with you before?

You take a moment to look at him properly. He wasn't lacking as far "Royalty" went, with his chiseled features and silky locks. He had a defined face and skin as smooth as the breasts of a young maiden. His hair was a golden colour, falling into place perfectly and he had piercing purple eyes that seemed to hold universes behind them.

Although you never really did like blondes.


	3. Date Nite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An idoitic french fry asks (Name) on a date and she doesn't know how to refuse.

_Your flirting is interrupted by an indignant screech from behind you, "No, we certainly will not!" You turn your head to see the same tall blonde from before, flailing his arms at you. "Now, stop harassing my princesses!"_

_He finishes his little outburst, back heaving as he looks at you for an answer._

_You reply with a blank stare and after some silence reply, "Nah."_

"Excuse me?" Tamaki replies, perfectly shaped eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

You attempt a shrug but ultimately fail because of the girls at your sides. "I mean, we just got started here, y'know? It'd be sinful to stop now," you explain. You glance at him in the corner of your eye. "You can join us, you know. If you really want. I don't dictate my girls and they seem pretty keen."

At this, both the girls and the blond blush fiercely. The blond more from anger than anything, though. "Alright, sir!" He begins, pointing an accusatory finger at you. You wonder if you should correct him on the whole "sorry I don't have a penis" thing. You decide against it.

"You've been nothing but disrespectful to my princesses since you got here! Women are fine and delicate creatures that cannot be exposed to your immoral suggestions! We need to have a talk!" He finishes, moving a hand to his hip (and holy damn Shakira was right -  _they did not lie_ ) and looking at you with eyes that did not back down. You respected his determination and shrugged unsuccessfully again.

You could tell the blond wasn't expecting your reply. "Yeah, alright." You respond, indifference laced in your tone. And so, you whisper a quick apology to the girls and stand up, gesturing for the host to lead the way as he stared at you with his mouth wide open. His shock turns to an expression of pleasant surprise and you can see him puff his chest out a bit as he asks for you to follow him. You think your immediate compliance may have fed his ego a bit.

He led you to outside the room, in a quiet and unsuspecting hallway void of life. Then he does an about turn that would make military men cry in envy and stares at you. He's taller, what with his slender-man / 90s yaoi manga legs and easily looks down at you. " _Who_  are you?"

You don't fail to notice the obvious suspicion in his voice as he narrows his eyes at you.

"I'm just someone who's passionate about hot babes and wants to work with you," you say, shrugging.

"You're,  _what_ , a host, then? From another school or something?"

"Nah, nah," you shake your head, waving your hand dismissively. "I don't have any professional experience - I'm just an old school womaniser."

"So, you're here to steal our customers away?"

You resist to roll your eyes at how he's somehow made it sound like  _you_  were the enemy again. Hoo boy. He must see you as some foreigner who's just here to steal his jobs and women.  _And he's not wrong about that either, but..._

You make sure to state it simply, so even he couldn't twist your words this time. "I want to work at the Host Club."

The expression on his face can only be described as a sceptic fish who is drowning and contemplating life all at the same time. "You want to be to join us?" he says in disbelief.

"Yes."

"We not taking anyone at the time, sorry-" he goes to turn around again but you move forward to grab his arm before you can.

You pull his body close to yours and you can feel his slender limbs brush against yours. Your faces are mere inches apart. You can feel the heat radiating get off his face. You both stare into each other's eyes and you whisper to him, "Bullshit."

Cue the confused expression again. "Excuse  _you_ -" he wriggles free from your grip but you cut him off.

"Kyoya himself told me you were the guy to see for applications! At least give me a chance!"

And now he seems even more confused.

"Kyoya?" He repeats, purple eyes widening in legitimate surprise. "He's the one who outlawed new members. He said they'd be bad for our image."

"Nah, dude," you tell him, shaking your head once more. "He told me I had to get an application and have it signed from you if I wanted to join."

He turns to look at you sceptically again. But it's different this time. It's no longer cautious and patronising but instead curious as if he were appraising you for your worth.

You can't tell if his conclusion of you was positive or not. "He must've have seen something in you, then." He leans forward, hands in pocket. "He wouldn't tell just anyone to go to me." Then he leans back, seemingly done with his inspection. "What did you  _say_  to him?"

"Nothing, I swear!" You raise your hands in defence. "I was just like, honest and shit with him."

You don't expect his next question. "Are you busy Friday night?" He asks.

You blink.  _"What?"_

"Friday night. Are you free?"

"Yeah, I guess-"

"Good. Show up after school here at five. Wear something nice."

"I beg your fucking pardon," you say as the blonde goes to turn around and walk away. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

He looks over his shoulder. "Yes. Problem?"

"You do realise I don't have a ding-a-ling, right? That I'm a woman?"

Your questions didn't mean to come out as condescending as they did, but Tamaki doesn't seem to mind. "I figured that out," he tells you.

The words leave your mouth as a reply before you can stop them. "But I thought you were an idiot-"

Tamaki isn't hindered by your comment and you briefly wonder if he's used to it. He replies smoothly, "Then you thought wrong."

And he walks away.

You were genuinely proud of him for sleuthing your gender out and watch his Shikara hips leave with a smile.

The truth was he actually just noticed the female symbol on the student card poking out of your blazer pocket halfway through your conversation.

But you didn't need to know that, as far as he was concerned.

-:-

Friday comes fast and you find yourself hauling your ass to abandoned music room much faster than you would have liked. You weren't sure what the blonde meant by "something nice" to wear so you settled for jeans and a baggy shirt. They weren't flattering in the slightest but they didn't need to be. It wasn't as if it was a proper date with a cute girl waiting for you, so you didn't put much effort in. You didn't think it'd be problem. Nor did you think you would be criticised – no,  _shamed_  – about it. Not by the stupid blond at least.

You push open the club doors, yelling out a loud "excuse me" as you do. Your eyes scan the empty room and find Tamaki sitting in front of a breathtaking piano. You weren't very musically inclined yourself but even you could appreciate the sleekness and grace oozing of this piano. Quiet, single note keys play every now and then. Not fast enough to be music, but rather a random string of noises.

You approach the blonde. "You play?" You ask. You didn't bother greeting him but he doesn't greet you either. He doesn't even look away from the keys. Tamaki just lets out a non-committal hum.

You assume that's the end of that conversation so you're surprised when Tamaki turns to you and asks, "Do you want to hear a song?" It also surprises you how delicate he seems when the sunset through the windows hits his face just right and his purple eyes bore into yours, saying far more than they should. Just that very thought also surprises you. You only get this poetic and cheesy for the especially beautiful girls _. Weird._

You shrug, both to answer Tamaki and dismiss your thoughts. Tamaki's nods and turns back to the piano. Slender yaoi hands cover the ivory keys. It's a slow song and you don't recognise it but it sounds beautiful nonetheless. You silently listen until he finishes with a soft smile and turns back to you. You give him a thumbs up. "Nice." You tell him.

He merely nods again and stands up. He gathers a jacket left on the top of the piano and stares at you. His outfit was far more fashionable than yours – as to be expected from a host. He gives you a scrutinising stare. "You look like a bag of potatoes," he tells you. ' _Ah,'_  you think. ' _Tamaki is always the charmer.'_

You play it off as a joke and answer, "I try."

Although this is apparently no joke to the blonde. He places a hand on his hips and points an accusing finger at you. "Lesson number one: a host is a gentleman who should never look so dishevelled!"

His previously serene purple eyes are now set ablaze with passion as he scolds you. He was at least serious about hosting, it seems. You roll your eyes, "Geez," you whine. "Are you my date or my mother?"

"Tonight, I am both." He says proudly.

You don't know which you're more scared about.


	4. Eyes Only on Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tamaki goes shopping and (Name) just wants a hot girl to love.

Tamaki assuring you that "it would be fine" as you blindly followed him through the streets of the city was not reassuring in the least. You'd ask numerous times where you were going but he'd just reply with "a gentleman never pries for information and respects boundaries". He seemed serious about moulding you into the perfect man to be a host. You'd cut him off many times, exclaiming, that you  _were not_  a "gentleman" but he didn't seem to care.

Back and fourth banter and whining (mainly from you) continues to fill the silence for another ten minutes of walking. It's only when you stop in front of an expensive and lavish looking shopping centre that he announces "we have arrived". You stare at neon lights, blinking the names of famous brands and sigh exasperatedly. "You brought me here  _so you could shop?"_  your voice is both mocking and in disbelief.

"Not me," he replies coolly, crossing his arms over his chest. "You."

_"Me?"_

You knew he didn't like your outfit but you didn't think he go to the lengths to force you to buy new clothes.

Seeing your confusion, Tamaki continues, "Lesson number two: a host should present themselves in such a way to empathises their figure." He has the same know-it-all / Holier-than-thou grin as before and you can't help but snicker about his supercilious attitude.

"What  _figure_ is there to emphasise?" You ask, gesturing to your body. Tamaki merely smiles knowingly and walks into the store without you.

You watch his retreating figure with a sigh. "If only I were gay enough to not care about hitting his annoyingly gorgeous face," you mutter, reluctantly following after him.

You feel like you shouldn't be surprised at how effortlessly Tamaki navigates around the store, collecting outfits like a tornado crushing everything in it's path. There's already around a mountain of clothes on his arm and plethora of workers following after him by the time you catch up to him.

You walk into the store and examine various price tags and clothes lining the walls. Tamaki sure had expensive tastes. "You expect me to pay for all those?" You ask as the blonde and six other tailing workers approach you.

"Of course. You're an Ouran student, after all. Money is no object to us." He beams proudly and workers behind him nod enthusiastically.

_Such an idiot..._  "Didn't your parents ever teach you the value of a dollar, man?" You ask.

At this his face scrunches and then he lets out a quiet gasp. "Wait, (Name)," it's the first time he's ever called you by that. "Are you a poor person...?" he whispers quietly, as if he was speaking forbidden words. "A commoner like my beloved Haruhi?"

Haruhi? The beautiful dude? You don't think about it. "No," you say bluntly. "I just know how to save my money."

The blank expression Tamaki gives you in return tells you more about the kind of childhood he must have grown up with than any other conversation you've had with him.

"Saving," you repeat slowly, as if explaining a new concept to a child or someone who speaks another language. "It's when you think before spending your money all in one store."

Both Tamaki and the store employees look equally as horrified at this. "Fine!" Tamaki says, flailing his arms. "I'll pay. Just try these one."

And before you can protest, you're shoved into a changing room. You stand there dumbfounded for a moment. Once your brain processes what just happened, you poke your head out of the change room curtain. "But I already have clothes," you say in protest to Tamaki, who is waiting on the other side patiently.

"Yes, but you need better ones. A host can never look so ragged."

You huff at his comment but wonder if Tamaki teaching you to be a host meant he'd accepted you into the club. You narrow your gaze. "Why are you doing this?" You wanted to know what his real intentions were and whether he was actually considering you to join his club or was just messing with you.

His purple eyes met yours without hesitation. "I see potential for greatness."

That was a compliment, you think.

"The girls at Ouran seem to like the way I dress just fine."

"They tolerate it, not appreciate it. A host should amaze and inspire those around you."

That lesson sounded a bit more arrogant than the last, but you expect nothing less from the blonde narcissist. Only Tamaki Suoh could claim to inspire people merely from his fashion sense with a straight face.

You sigh and pull the curtain back.

-:-

The next two hours are a blur of running from store to store, trying on clothes as Tamaki lectures you. After the fourth store and your fourth comment of: "This is stupid. I wanna eat, I'm hungry. I wish I was on a date with a smoking hot babe instead." Tamaki relents and says that you should take a break for dinner. The skies are dark by the time you reach the food-court. Although "food-court" seemed like a belittling name to the expensive chain of cafes and fancy restaurants in the shopping centre.

Tamaki flawlessly leads you to a restaurant of his choice and encourages you to chose anything you'd like, claiming he'd pay for it. You'd feel bad about it if he wasn't so spoilt.

You ordered a calorie packed dinner, choosing just about every remotely unhealthy food on the menu. This doesn't slip past Tamaki of course. "A host shouldn't eat such toxic things. Nor should they order so much of a meal."

"Shut up." You retort, particularly defensive about this lecture. "I'll be as gluttonous as I want, you stupid French-fry."

Tamaki seemed to notice he had hit a sore spot. You had been pretty restrained most of the day and responded to most of his critiques with a sarcastic "yes, ma'am" or a "I'm too gay to care".

Thus, he decides to exploit it. "Hm, you seem pretty sensitive about your eating habits."

You merely glare at him in response. Your expression only changes when Tamaki rises from his seat and pinches your stomach. You jump back, startled. "What in the name of gay-jesus do you think you're doing?!" you exclaim, scotching away from him to the end of the booth seat you sat in.

"Checking your figure. You were so adamant about me staying outside the changing booths that I could never properly examine you. A host should take care of their body."

"Please do so without grabbing me next time. Even I know that you don't grope a girl so roughly. I know from experience that they usually hit ya when you do!"

"It was hardly groping."

Tamaki sits back in his seat with a sigh and dramatic hair flip. The dinner continues without incident.

You felt like you should perhaps apologise for calling him French-fry, but nothing you said wasn't true after all. You were mostly just angry at yourself just for lashing out at him – you were usually pretty relaxed and it bothered you that you let him get to you. It meant you hadn't changed, that you were just as sensitive as before.

The more you hung out with Tamaki the more you doubted just how much of an idiot he was. He said a lot of stupid things and could change his attitude in an instant, but he seemed to always know more than he was letting on.

That bothered you as well.

You try not to think about it as you and Tamaki walk home. It was late and you were exhausted from being around Tamaki and shopping with him. You hadn't hit on a single cute girl today either, so you felt pretty deflated.

Your eyes wonder the streets and almost as if they had been placed there by the hot-girl gods themselves, a cute high school girl wearing the Ouran unuform is spotted in the distance. Your heart physically jumps a beat in excitement. FINALLY! TIME TO GET YOUR HOMO ON!

"Tamaki," you whisper, voice serious. The blond glances at you. "Do you see that cute girl over there?" he nods. "I'm gonna go get her number. I'll tell you how it goes."

And before he can protest, you've already assumed an action-hero / power-ranger like pose and shouted "I'M GOING GAY!" for the whole crowd around you to hear. You prepare to run to that hottie at a speed that would make Usain Bolt jealous, but hand grabs your wrist before you can. Tamaki spins you to face him and grabs your chin to make you look it him. It all felt incredibly  _straight_  and as if it was from a shoujo manga.

"You're  _my_  date tonight," he murmurs. "You should have eyes only for me," and to this day you still swear that he leaned in for moment before backing away. Tamaki lets you go and continues walking as if nothing happened.

The serene smile on his face is almost concerning, and you're left dumbfounded once more as you watch him go.

"That was far too straight for my liking," you say, with a sigh, as you follow him with your heart still racing at the thought of Tamaki's face so close to yours. 


	5. The Bible According To Lesbians

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Name) is religious again. Hallelujah.

"You're staring at him."

There's a pesky fly buzzing around your ear.

"I thought you had no interest in males."

Buzz buzz buzz. Buzz buzz buzz.

"You're not even paying attention, are you, (Name)?"

If only you could make the buzzing stop. This fly was so  _annoying._

"Too busy staring at Tamaki, like a love sick puppy."

**_Smack_ ** **.**

Your hand flies to slap Kyoya's cheek, hitting the fly that had landed on his face. The buzzing stops for a moment as well as Kyoya's incessant whisperings in your ears. Kyoya barely reacts to the hit.

"There was a fly on your face." You explain. "I got it." You remove your hand only to find the fly quickly escape and continue buzzing. You squint at it. "I guess I didn't get it." You look back at the red mark Kyoya's face. "Sorry."

Kyoya sighs and retrieves a notebook from his jacket. "An apology is a lot more genuine when you don't have a smirk on your face."

"Sorry." You say, expression still the same. Kyoya sighs again.

He writes for a bit and the two of you sit in the club room in silence. It was just after school and you could see other hosts skirting around the room, getting ready for the day of work. Well, Haruhi (beautiful dude) was doing most of the work. The strange red heads were throwing paper planes at each other and Tamaki was making poses in the mirror.

The silence stretches and you're surprised when Kyoya suddenly slams his book shut and moves off the pillar he was resting on. He takes a seat opposite you. "How'd your date with the president go?" He asks, tone a tad too smug for your liking.

"Date is a strong word. Kidnapping, perhaps, is more accurate."

"You're the one who begged for this host club experience."

"I know," you concede. "Tamaki can just be a little over the top sometimes. Too flamboyant, ya know." In response, Kyoya gives you a look that screams "you're a hypocrite".

"You came to school with flaming roses today, (Name). You're pretty flamboyant yourself."

"Well," you begin, defensively. "They weren't meant to be on fire but they were so I just rolled with it and made 'hot' and 'lit' puns. That isn't flamboyant; it's just logical."

"You set  _yourself_ on fire."

"Well yeah. But that was only 75% intentional."

"You still haven't answered my question about Tamaki."

You sigh. "It was fun but strict. He kept flicking me on the head every time I stared at a girl. Like dog obedience training or something."

"Did it work?" Kyoya asks, suddenly very intrigued. You give a shrug in response and watch him scribble something on his book which looks which looks like the phrase _"twins + dog training = peace for Kyoya??"_ which is then underlined and circled.

"Not really," you shrug. "I still managed to get four numbers even with the French fry looming over my shoulder every second."

"Well it seems to me that the 'French fry' has made quite the impact on you."

"Whatd'ya mean?"

Kyoya pauses for a moment and smiles knowingly. "You've been staring at him all day," he points out.

"I have  _not_ been staring at-"

You stop mid-sentence. You had been focusing on the spot Tamaki stood in for a while now. But that didn't mean you were staring at him, per se. Right?

"Point proven," remarks Kyoya.

"Huh." You say, leaning your head back on the couch to stare at the roof. "I guess I have?" You squint at the tiles. "Weird."

You shrug it off. "Anywho, do you know when I'll be doing any actual work? This is my third afterschool visit and I'm still yet to meet other members or be trained. Though, it's not like need any training, I'm practically a certified sex machine™ at this point."

Kyoya stares at you evenly. "It's concerning that I can't tell whether you are serious or not." He replies, eyes narrowing. "Either way, I was under the impression you were being taught by Tamaki?"

You pull a face and scratch the back of your neck. "He just lectures me. I don't really learn anything. But I figure it can't be that complex anyway. It's just flirting. I've been doing that since I was a foetus. I'm ready, dude."

"You are most decidedly  **not** ready,  _dude."_ Kyoya drawls in response, mimicking your colloquialisms. "There's more to it than flirting. There is a grace, there is organisation."

"Can't I just do my own thing?"

The host pushes up his glasses. "Absolutely not."

You throw your head back and groan. "Fine, fine." You concede, sighing. You raise your head to look at him. "What else do I have to do to get into your sausage club?"

"Errands."

"Errands?"

"Errands."

You narrow your eyes. "What kind?"

"Ones for the club. Getting food, occasional paperwork, ect."

Sounded suspiciously like they were making you their little bitch boy. But you wouldn't say anything, not yet. "When would I have to do 'em?"

"Shopping is on Tuesday. I'll give you a list. Picking up club deliveries is on Wednesday. Thursday is organisation. I can accompany you to shopping, tomorrow."

You weren't too keen on that. Kyoya was a pretty nasty dude. Tamaki, at least, was sort-of a gentleman. Kyoya was soulless, that much you could tell.

"Can I say no?"

"No."

"Can I bring a date?"

There's a pause as Kyoya glances at you curiously. "No."

You click your tongue. All this time with the club left you little room in the day for chick chasing. You only flirted with 13 girls today. You hadn't had numbers that low since year five.

It was nothing short of pathetic.

"This is not going to be fun." You sigh.

"I never said being a host was," relies Kyoya, arrogantly. There's a silence as you stare at the host's amused expression. Suddenly, the Vice President speaks again, "There's one more thing."

You hoped it didn't require more errands. Errands sucked. Almost as much as Tamaki did.

...

**_Got 'em._ **

Kyoya ignores your chuckling and reaches over his seat to grab a notebook on the side table. You immediately notice your name written on it. "All hosts, wether in training or not, receive a customer handbook. Usually, I wouldn't give it to someone who is still only a candidate, but Tamaki pushed for you to have one. It contains information on all the girls in Ouran, including names, history, phone numbers and preferences. This is a big responsibility and should be kept confidential to non-members. Understand?"

Your mind is still processing the gravity of the situation as Kyoya holds out the book to you.

"Holy shit," you whisper.

You hand hovers above the holy item. "This is amazing. You're basically giving me the info of every chick in school, numbers included! This would have taken years for me to get!"

You felt like you had just been dealt the ultimate hand. The OP card to end every game. The Excalibur of flirting. The God Mod to  _life itself._ This shit was on the same level as the  _motherlode_ and  _testingcheatsenbaled_   _true_  cheats from the fucking  _Sims_.

This was... your  ** _Lesbian Bible._**

This was your God.

This was what would make you an unstoppable and terrifying bitch slayer, destroying all enemies and panties in your way.

You could feel the tears building.

You take the book, purposely holding Kyoya's outstretched hand as you do so. Your body is trembling and fast falling tears are rolling down your face.

_"Thank you, sensei... I will not squander your gift."_

"Stop that." Is Kyoya's response, as he moves his hand away.

 ** _"Hai, Sensei...!!!!!"_**  You shout, hastily wiping your face with your sleeve - this is a futile action, as more tears come to replace the others in an instant.

Kyoya sighs.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention Kyoya is a love interest?   
> 'Cause Kyoya is a love interest.


	6. Worse than Gonorrhoea™

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a brief threapy session with Tamaki and a trip to the grocery store with Kyoya, (Name) realises she might not be as gay as she intially thought.

YOU inhale sharply, the musky scent of bad cologne and heterosexuality violating your senses. The cushion you lean on is soft, comparable to a tender and warm boob, but you hardly feel comfortable in this situation. Kyoya repeatedly assures you of the club’s high quality furniture but the couch you lie on feels itchy and stiff, and your therapist’s gaze burns you like cigarette buds on bare skin.

The pink ceiling of the host club above you is familiar in a distant sense. Despite being a host club trainee for almost a couple days now, you still spent shockingly little time in the club room. You hadn’t met many members, either. Only the French fry, glasses kink and Haruhi (the beautiful dude).

A delicate voice breaks your thoughts.

“Do you have anything you’d like to bring up in our session, today?” Your pseudo-therapist asks.  You glance over at the blonde when he speaks to you, and sigh.

Tamaki was well and truly into this therapist-patient spiel, going all out to find a lab coat and steal Kyoya’s classes. This all started when he asked how your day was and you replied, “It’s alright, just got a few things on my mind” which Tamaki took to mean you wanted to have a one hour therapy session with him, discussing your feelings.

But hey, you wouldn’t complain. Real therapy is expensive.

“Yeah, doc, listen. I think I’m having a bit of a crisis.” You reply, twiddling your thumbs in front of you. You weren’t gonna lie, the actual role play was kinda fun, too.

Tamaki nods and writes down some notes on his clipboard (also stolen from Kyoya). “I see. What kind of crisis?”

“I’m having a crisis about my sexuality.”

“Hmmm. Interesting, go on.”

Gulping, you find the next words hard to say, because they are far from joking. “I’m scared I might be…” You mouth suddenly feels dry and the term feels foreign on your tongue. “… **_straight_**.”

“I see.” Tamaki replies calmly. “Well, (Name), that’s completely natural in your situation.”

“It is?”

“Yes. You are someone who is strongly attracted to females but as of late you’ve been attracted to males, causing inner turmoil, I’m assuming?”

You all but jump out of your chair in excitement as you sit up and reply, “Yes! Yes! That’s it exactly!”

He adjusts his fake glasses. “As I thought. Fear not, (Name). This is expected. Many girls and even men question their sexuality when they fall head over heels for me, _the King of the host club-”_

“What? No, no, no. I’m not attracted to you.” You quickly interrupt him, waving a hand in front of your face dismissively.

Tamaki is shocked at this. “What? Then _who on earth_ are _you_ talking about?”

“Haruhi!” You all but scream. “The Beautiful Dude™!”

You hadn’t even spoken to Beautiful Dude™ yet, only admired him from afar. But you knew he was really fucken beautiful. Like, “this could be my new religion” kind of beautiful.

These feelings of attraction puzzled you. From the moment you were birthed, you’ve always had an unmovable idea of your sexuality. You weren’t just any old lesbian, you were **_the Lesbian™_**. You were the ultimate gay. And everyone knew you as such.

_Penis? No, thank you. Not to your tastes – your gayness makes you allergic._

_Breasts? Beautiful, bountiful breasts? Yes, please, I’ll take four pairs to go._

Your overwhelming gayness was your everything. It was your destiny, identity, individuality and so much more. And now that you had the hots for Haruhi, a guy? You were confused.

_(Secretly, in a far away part of your mind you refuse to acknowledge, you might admit that Kyoya and Tamaki were equally as attractive to you.)_

Tamaki’s expression drops and he looks at you with sad eyes. “Wha- Are you sure there isn’t, like, anyone else besides from Haruhi you think is attractive?!”

You scrunch you face in deep thought before announcing, “Nope!” cheerily.

“No, like _, really,_ _really_ no one else? Not even a _certain blonde host?!_ ”

“The little one who likes cake? Nah, not really my type.”

“No! (Name)! I need you to think hard!” He shouts, moving off his couch to place his hands on your shoulders and look at you sternly. “There is no one else in the club you think is attractive?!”

“Hmmm, I guess Kyoya is? But he’s as scary as undiagnosed gonorrhoea, man. So that takes away from his appearance, ya know?”

For some unexplainable reason, after that Tamaki suddenly holds a hand to his face dramatically and runs off to the corner. You hear soft sobbing and are pondering how to respond when a cold grip appears on your shoulder.

“Undiagnosed gonorrhoea?” Kyoya repeats, his voice somehow monotone and threatening at the same time.

“Ah, speak of the ~~devil~~  disease.” You turn to face him with a grin. “Yeah, man. Dangerous stuff when you don’t notice it.”

“I’m sure,” comes Kyoya’s dry reply as he pushes up his glasses. He opens his mouth to speak but stops upon noticing Tamaki in the corner. He gives you a side glance and asks, “What did you do to him?”

Shrugging, you place your hands behind your head. “Nothin’ much. We just talked. He pretended to be my therapist and I guess I…” you pause for dramatic effect as a devious smirk crosses your face. _“…therapiss-ed_ him off or something.”

…

Kyoya promptly ignores this, changing the topic immediately. “It’s Tuesday today,” he begins.

“An astute observation.” You comment after a beat of silence.

“Tuesday is shopping day for the club.”

“Oh. _Oh._ ”

You frown in realisation and ask, “Does this mean-”

“Yes, yes it does.”

This meant you had to go grocery shopping. With Kyoya. _The man worse than gonorrhoea™._

_Tuesday was not a good day._

-:-

“Do you really need 24 packets of instant coffee? Don’t you go shopping every week?”

Kyoya sighs, (a common occurrence today) adds another packet to the trolley and continues moving down the aisle. “You’d be surprised.” Is his reluctant response. His eyes flicker towards you and he continues, “This is also coming from the girl who has shoved seven packets of Marshmallows down her shirt in the past thirty seconds.”

You pause mid-shove, standing frozen in the confectionary aisle with your hand down your shirt. “I thought if I put them in the cart you’d make fun of me.” You answer honestly, now beginning to remove the (jokes on Kyoya, can’t even count his mellows smh) _nine_ packets you had stored. You tentatively place them in the cart and Kyoya continues pushing.

“I’m hurt that you’d think that, (Name).” The host replies, surprisingly sincere sounding. He continues, “I don’t need Marshmallows to prompt me to insult you, I’ll do it regardless.”

“…”

Kyoya was a lot meaner when he wasn’t at school, you noticed. You supposed he didn’t have any real image to uphold in a “commoner’s market place” as Kyoya had named the grocery store.  He was bitchier than ever before, and you hate to admit it but a small part of you was proud for his savagery.

“I’m wounded.” You reply.

“You’ll live.” Comes Kyoya’s indifferent reply.

“No, really, I can’t go on. The pain is too much. I need some breasts stat, or I don’t think I’ll make it to Wednesday.”

Another sigh from Kyoya. He pulls over the trolley to inspect a coffee brand, muttering to himself, “Honestly, I don’t see how you could ever think you’re straight with comments like that.”

“Wha! Hey, were you listening to Tamaki and I?!” You accuse, pointing a finger at him.

Kyoya is hardly phased, placing the coffee tin down and replying, “Naturally.”

“Wow! Whatever happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?! This medical system is corrupted.”

“I don’t think that counts when you have your session in the middle of the club room.”

You ponder Kyoya’s words as you stroke an imaginary beard on your face. “Fair enough,” you relent. “Wait,” a realisation occurs and you immediately pale. “Does this mean you heard me call you attractive?”

Kyoya turns to stare at you blankly. “I heard you compare me to a sexually transmitted disease.”

“That’s the highest form of flattery,” you rebut but Kyoya doesn’t seem to believe you.

There’s a silence after that and the two of you continue shopping as usual.

Your sickeningly domestic activity is interrupted as Kyoya suddenly begins speaking again. “You know, (Name), has it ever occurred to you that you might be bisexual?”

And then it hits you. You feel like you’ve been hit with an uppercut and that you’ve experienced a great epiphany because of it.

You feel like your world has been turned over and you’ve just been thrown into a tower of condensed meat. That might be because you trip over when you turn to look at him and land in a grocery store display.

“Woah,” you whisper. “Woah. _Woah.”_

You rise from the ruins of the canned display and stare at the host. “You might be right. I mean, I love my girls but guys are nice too??”

You hold your head in your hands and crouch as this realisation hits you all at once. You weren’t straight after all, you were just bisexual. That actually… made a lot of sense.

“Woah,” you whisper, once more, just for good measure. “I’m having a sexuality crisis at a Japanese Walmart _– I don’t think this is normal-”_

You exhale shakily and stand back up. “But, Kyoya,” you place your hands on his shoulders, staring into his eyes and looking for more guidance. “What if I like girls more than I like guys?”

He’s hardly phased by your revelation and calmly replies, “It’s natural to have preferences.”

“Woah, _wait-_ ” You stop again, another thought occurring. “Would that make me a _biased bisexual??”_

“Can I say _good bi_ to being a lesbian now?”

To your surprise, Kyoya doesn’t sigh this time. He merely shakes his head and laughs. It’s not a chuckle or a snicker, but a genuine laugh. It’s light and surprisingly precious and the sound of it makes your gay little heart flutter.

_He was Kyoya. He was the man worse than gonorrhoea™. The literal pain in your ass._

And yet here you were smiling dumbly at him because he laughed at your joke, and you look like some **_straight_** , lovesick fool.

“Man, I suck at being a lesbian.”

“Though, at least I don’t suck as much as Tamaki.”

…

**_Got ‘em._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing this:  
> Me: *looks up from screen* Hey, how do you spell Gonorrhea?  
> Parent: G-O-N-O wait, wait, why do you need to know how to spell that?
> 
> This chapter is fucking mess smh. It's all over the place. I might organise and revise it more later. Also, all feedback is appreciated! Thanks so much to the guys who already commented and left kudos!


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